Hope Deferred
by sodsta
Summary: Hope deferred makes the heart ill.


A chill breeze blew in, as if from nowhere, and made every hair on the back of Draco's neck stand on end. It was strange, he thought, because it wasn't particularly cold, yet he had been shivering for the past hour and no matter how close he sat to the fire, it didn't get any warmer. There was a strange smell in the room tonight, a dank, heady smell that reminded Draco of the lake. It wasn't pleasant and the scented candles burning either side of the couch did little to disguise the odour as it clung to the air and circulated round the room like a giant, invisible serpent.

He stood and walked to the window, pulling his robes more tightly about himself as the firelight dancing across his skin was replaced with the harsh silvery glow of the moon. It wouldn't be long now, he told himself. They'd be here soon and then this would all be over, the fight would be won. He would be free. That thought was the only thing keeping him calm and he waited for them with baited breath as the clock ticked relentlessly on.

__

Harry leaned back against the desk, looking at the floor as if deep in thought. "You remember the plan, don't you?" he asked, voice low and hoarse as lack of sleep forced his vision to fade in and out of focus.

"Yes," the other boy replied as he paced back and fourth restlessly. "He's arranged for the ceremony to take place at the Manor two weeks from Tuesday… Christmas eve." He shook his head and ran a hand nervously through his hair, "I don't know what time, yet."

"Well, that's a start." Harry sighed, looking up finally and watching as Draco made his way repeatedly from one end of the room to the other. "Do you know who'll be there?" he asked, more than slightly bothered by Draco's obvious distress.

There was a pause then, a silence, only disturbed by the clicking of heel on stone as it faded and grew louder in turns. "My aunt will be there, and Rudolfus. Macnair… Avery… Nott, Pettigrew. My father, of course…"

"Draco, sit down." Harry said suddenly, having paid more attention to the boy's body language than his voice. He looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown and it worried the Gryffindor. He placed his hands on Draco's shoulders and lead him over to a chair where he sat him down and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "That makes eight," he said softly, more to himself than to Draco. "I'm guessing there'll probably a few more than that but we still out number them nearly three to one. We can do this, Draco."

The blond took a deep breath to steady himself and reached across his chest to grasp at Harry's hand. "Yes," he sighed, allowing a smile to un-crease his furrowed brow, "I think we can."

Occasionally Draco would hear the echo of heavy footsteps and the hushed muttering of gruff voices from the other side of the large, mahogany doors, but his only real company was the crackle and fizz of the fire burning in the large iron grate. This room had always been a place of comfort for him, a sanctuary where he would escape to after having woken from a bad dream. Night after night would see him curled up before the dying fire, wrapped up tight from head to toe in thick, woollen blankets, safe here, finally, from the monsters that plagued his dreams. A warm place it had been and yet it seemed so cold now.

The light from the window gave him an almost ethereal glow and he strained his eyes in the hope of catching a glimpse of them making their way across the grounds. No one out there would be able to miss the white statue-like figure standing, un-moving, by the window.

__

"God, Harry, I'm scared."

The dark haired boy smiled and brushed a hand gently over one, snow-white cheek. "Don't be. I promise I'll come for you." He took one of Draco's hands and frowned at how cold it was. "You should be wrapped up warm, they say it's likely to snow tomorrow."

"I don't care about the snow. The weather doesn't matter.. Merlin, Harry… this might be the last time I ever see you."

"Don't! Don't say stupid things like that." Harry took hold of Draco's other hand and brought them both together, holding them to his chest. "We both know you're going to make it through this. We both know this plan is going to work."

"But what if it doesn't?" Draco stared deeply into Harry's eyes, frowning, searching for even just the slightest form of doubt behind those perfect shards of emerald green. "What if they've always known? What if they're waiting for you when you arrive? Who's to say they haven't had their own planned formed for months?"

Harry's lips silenced him and he didn't try to fight them. He melted into the kiss, even though the tear on his cheek had frozen and fell into Harry's embrace as he felt the familiar, strong arms pull him closer.

"We'll make it, Draco. Trust me."

"I do."

It was quite a while before the doors behind him opened and when he turned it was to see three people waiting.

"We are ready for you now, Draco."

His stomach fell away from under him and it was all he could do to keep his legs from turning to jelly. This was it, it was time and with one last look out the window, Draco turned and made his way slowly down the corridor, his father in front, his aunt behind and his mother at his side.

"We have discussed your initiation in great depth, Draco." Lucius informed, not turning to look at his son. "The Dark Lord was apprehensive to welcome you so readily into our ranks, what with you being so fresh out of school, but your mother and I have assured him that you will not let us down… I sincerely hope you do not prove us wrong."

Draco nodded and took a deep breath. "I'll make you proud, father."

Narcissa smiled and placed a hand lovingly on Draco's shoulder as they reached the end of the corridor and stood before the tall wooden doors leading into the dining room. "This is such a proud day for you, darling." She whispered as the doors opened, revealing a room lined with black robes and serpentine white masks. "Go and receive your destiny."

__

"Ten o'clock they want the ceremony to start."

"Then we'll be ready by eight."

"Please don't be late, Harry."

"I promise."

Draco stepped tentatively over the threshold and was instantly hit with the same repugnant stench from the other room, only this time it was stronger and took a hold of his senses like a vice and wouldn't let go. A wave of nausea washed over him and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat and made his way down the marked pathway until he was standing in front of the Dark Lord himself. He shivered as the creature smiled.

"Welcome, young Master Malfoy. I assume your father has already informed you of how uncertain I was about accepting you?"

Draco nodded, trying his best to maintain eye contact. "Yes, sir."

"Good. And I hope you realise how hard your parents worked to convince me that I should take you on?"

Another nod. "I do."

"You know, then, that once you have taken The Mark, everything you do as a Death Eater will reflect upon them?"

Draco swallowed again, hearing his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage as he felt his father's eyes boring into the back of his head. "Yes, sir. I know."

His insides had twisted into tight knots and the longer he stood, the more light headed he became. Harry should have been here by now. It shouldn't have got this far, Harry had promised. He chanced a quick glance over to the window while Voldemort reached into his robes but was unable to make out anything beyond the glass.

"Extend your left arm, Draco."

The boy froze momentarily, too shocked to fully comprehend what had just been asked of him before those two burning points on the back of his head snapped him out of it. Shaking now and fighting the urge to be physically ill, Draco rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm.

__

"Please don't be late, Harry."

"I promise."

"You have taken the time to memorise the Oath, I assume?" Voldemort asked, looking at the blond boy dubiously.

Draco couldn't even nod this time, he just licked his lips and wordlessly mouthed the word 'yes'.

"Very good." The Dark Lord smiled, "Then you may begin"

It was a while before Draco could speak. He cleared his throat several times and exhaled sharply before closing his eyes and reciting what he'd been taught "O-one Master small I only serve… to… to honour and obey his every word. To keep the faith, uphold the name. Master's bliss, my only aim."

__

"Please don't be late, Harry."

"I promise."

"I… hold his Mark upon my skin, his evil seed doth flow within. And if he asks, it shall be done. All e-evil to put out the sun."

__

"Please don't be late, Harry."

"I promise."

"Evil is how we choose to step, it's in our length, our width, our depth. He is our first and only thought, we live to serve Lord Voldemort."

He'd hardly finished speaking when his whole left arm was alight with white hot, searing pain. He screamed and forced himself not to pull away as the bright red light grew brighter and brighter still until he was almost blinded by it. Where was Harry? God, where was he? He'd promised! He'd promise he would be here, he'd promised he wouldn't be late. Draco tried to look at the clock, tried to see the time, maybe it was early, but he couldn't see past the glaring light and just as he thought his vision was about to be permanently erased, the light faded and as everything came back into focus, he realised he was on his knees.

"You have done well, Master Draco." The Dark Lord cooed, running a fingertip gently over the outlined scull now burnt into the pale, young flesh. "You should rest now. It has been a trying day." He released Draco's arm and Narcissa was instantly at her son's side.

"Come on, darling. Let's get you cleaned up and off to bed." She whispered, helping the boy to his feet and walking with him back through the crowd of parted Death Eaters, up the stairs and along the corridor leading to Draco's bedroom.

Draco felt sick, as soon as they'd reached the bed he leaned over and vomited all over the carpet.

"Alright, alright, darling." Narcissa pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at Draco's mouth and chin, cleaning up the mess on his face before sitting him down and fetching the old brass bin from across the room. "You rest now, I'll have a hour elf clean that up." She smiled and brushed a lock of platinum blond hair from his eyes. "You did very well."

All Draco could do was nod and bite his tongue as she fussed over him and tucked him in for the night. She left him with a glass of water and the bucket by the side of his bed and turned out the light as she left the room, telling him once again on her way out how proud they all were.

The darkness was empty, the room was cold. His arm hurt, he felt sick. He traced a finger over his new tattoo and burst into tears

__

"Please don't be late, Harry."

"I promise."


End file.
